Sunrise Sleepover
by Abel Quartz
Summary: [CONNVERSE] Steven and Connie have their first sleepover. When the adults leave to take care of their own duties, the two are left with questions, worries, and conversation.


(Everyone seems to be to enjoy some Connverse, so here's something more for you. If you'd ever like to see anything, I'm always listening. Recommended accompaniment: VCR, by The Xx.)

* * *

Steven frowned at his pajamas, putting one finger through the hole in the cotton, followed by his whole arm. The tear wasn't anything that couldn't be mended, but he didn't realize how bad it was until he saw the size. The bottoms were thankfully fine if a bit scuffed up. At this point Steven was more surprised when he found clothes that _weren't_ scuffed up in some way.

For the time being, he just pulled on the pajama pants and sighed.

"Steven, are you all set?"

Pearl set the basket of clean clothes down, clasping her hands together. "We got everything you needed, and Connie should be here soon, yes?" she said.

"Yeah, but my pajamas got wounded in action," Steven said, lifting his shirt for Pearl to see.

"Oh, I'll take care of that. You have other things to take care of!" She raised one finger, then let it fall in the direction of the screen door just as three quick knocks rattled the frame. "Speaking of!"

Steven yiped and dove to his dresser as Connie and her father walked through the door. Mr. Maheswaran raised his eyebrows as he saw the vastness of the house connected to the temple. Connie gripped her backpack tightly, her eyes darting from Pearl, to her father, to the stairs leading up to Steven's bed.

"Gotta say, this is a lot different than I had thought," Doug said, grinning at Pearl. "Did you all build this yourselves? It's got atmosphere!"

"Actually, Greg did most of the work. But, yes, we did assist where we were needed," Pearl said. "And we were certainly needed…"

"Hey, building a house isn't easy!"

Both human and gem adults shared a laugh, and Connie took the moment to edge away from her father's side. "I'm going to put my stuff -"

"Hey, Connie! Hello, Mister Maheswaran!"

A flustered Steven appeared at the top of the upper tier, grinning and waving as he made his way towards the bottom of the stairs. He stopped midway at the three expressions that faced him in turn - Pearl's concern, Connie's embarrassment, and Doug's incredulity.

"I don't believe that's an actual profession," Doug said, trying to hide a smirk.

"Huh?" Steven glanced down to read the upside-down logo of _Professional Beach Hunk_ over his chest, reaching down just past his waistline.

Connie's cheeks were burning almost as much as his were, but Doug was surprisingly calm, calmer than both of them had anticipated.

"Still good to see you have career goals," he said, turning back to Pearl. "I'll be back to pick her up in the morning. I imagine that I can trust you to supervise, considering the saving the earth business and all."

He knelt down in front of Connie, suddenly serious, but not severe. "You know that you need to call me to check in, all right? And if anything happens, then I can come and get you and -"

"Dad, I knoooooow already!"

Doug still smiled and kissed his daughter on the forehead. "Love you, Connie. Stay safe."

Connie giggled, only mildly embarrassed by her parent. "I love you too, dad. We won't do anything dangerous."

"I'll believe that when I see it," he said, glancing at Steven with a look that could poof a gem. "Goodnight, everyone! Off to work."

"Goodnight, Mr. Maheswaran!"

"Night, dad!"

Steven swallowed the lump in his throat and waved at the closing door.

Connie heaved a sigh and swung her backpack off, rolling her shoulders at the relief of the weight. Her jeans were rolled down all the way to protect from the early biting wind of September, and she unzipped the front of her sweatshirt to put on top of her backpack. The day's strong sunlight had warmed the house, and there was no need for any extra layers. Only the glass of the windows was cold to the touch, though they had not yet grown frost around their edges.

"I still can't believe my dad let me come here," she said, "but I guess this is less dangerous than a Gem mission."

Steven tugged at his shirt awkwardly as Connie stretched out, raising her hands over her head. He could see the muscles in her arms from tennis and sword training, defined when she tensed up. He hadn't really noticed how strong she was, although he felt that he had always unconsciously admired it. Now that he was discovering his Gem strength, maybe he could show off for her some time. He had to wonder if she -

"Earth to Steven? Pearl said, the pizza's all done."

"O-oh! Sorry, sorry," Steven murmured, hopping down from the top of the stairs and floating all the way to the main floor.

Connie was waiting with a hand extended as he landed softly, bare feet on the cold floor. They bowed to each other like royals, heads bowed and lips bit to stifle their giggles.

Pearl put the pizza on the countertop. "Well! You two should be fine. I'll be back before you know it."

"Wait, you're not staying?" Connie said. "But my dad!"

"I'm afraid I have some matters to which I should attend," Pearl said, her cheeks coloring with blush. "I'm going to use a telephone!"

Both kids stared at the humming Gem as she walked back to her room, the door sliding open and closed with less fluidity than Pearl usually left in her trail. Connie turned to Steven with a raised eyebrow.

"She met a girl at a concert who looks like mom after we outran a police car and she's crushing pretty hard."

"Oh! Huh. Okay."

Still holding hands, the pair was suddenly accosted by the silence of the empty living space, kept company only by the smell of pizza and each other's concerned expressions. Steven took the lead, pulling Connie over to where the food awaited them. Connie opened her mouth as if to protest, but Steven spoke before she could raise concerns.

"If we can handle ourselves in the wilderness, then I think we'll be safe right here in the house. And we don't have to drink any more of that pine needle tea to stay healthy!" Steven said.

They pulled up the stools to the counter. "I don't know, Steven," Connie sighed. "Will this really be okay? I know my parents would be upset if they knew what we were doing without supervision. I've never really slept over like this before, and - I don't know, it just feels like something new. In a weird way. Not good, not bad, just weird."

Steven pushed a plate in front of her, a juice box already opened and bestrawed in the middle. "Lots of things feel that way," he said. "But now we can get through it together. Whatever IT is."

He lifted his own juice towards her, and Connie couldn't help but smile and raise her box back, the cardboard edges tapping against each other.

" _Clink!_ "

* * *

The moon so far above the house that each rock on the beach was touched by its rays, reflecting silver against the mercury sand. The ocean's deep blue was stirred up by the early wind of autumn, and the choppy waters sparkled like diamonds in the tide. Silver crests were muted by the shadows of the clouds overshadowing them, clouds who would soon be covering the city in the heavy charcoal of September's weight. The darkness was absolute, broken only by the dull streetlights that sent orange pollution to combat the natural lights of earth. Cobalt and coral contested beyond the rocks and grains, swirling with the impossible beat of nature, a rhythm unknown and unknowable.

Kitchen lights illuminated the abandoned dishes and several empty juice containers on the counter. These were the only lights in the room, save for the ever-glowing crystals of the temple sanctum and the two lights that lit up the children's faces in the bedroom. Steven's desk lamp faced the wood, and the television screen faced both of the kid's furrowed brows.

" **KAY! OH!** "

"Auugh!" Steven dropped the controller in mock frustration. "How are you so good at Lonely Blade! Have you ever even played before?"

"It's the sword fighting!" Connie brushed her hair back from her forehead in triumph. "It just comes naturally to me."

"I guess I shouldn't have picked Kumatetsu. He's too slow compared to Lonely Blade."

At the bottom of the screen, the bear's blank expression was matched by the triumphant and unchanging confidence in Lonely Blade's face. Connie's health bar had barely even budged, despite all the combos that Steven had pulled off in the early game. Twenty-six matches, and he had only won three by spamming the heavy attack while jumping.

"I wonder how Stevonnie would do at this." Steven turned in surprise, and Connie was almost just as surprised by what she had said. "I mean, if you've got the background and I've got the skill - you know? They'd be a master!"

"Probably? I guess?"

Steven pushed himself up from where he was sitting on the ground, onto the edge of his mattress. Connie was still on the floor, cross-legged on a pillow. He didn't realize he was staring until he caught the expression on her face. Connie came up and put her hand over his, slender fingers caressing over his stubby knuckles, tense under the skin.

"Steven, is something wrong? Did I say something?"

"What does being Stevonnie mean? To you?"

Connie straightened up, her eyebrows raised and her mouth open but unable to form an answer.

"I remember on the dance floor," Steven said, quieter, softer. Closer. "We weren't having fun anymore because we were alone. Stevonnie was alone. And even though we were together, we couldn't really be together. Garnet is different, because Gems, they… Fusion is so much a part of how they can be together. Fusion is part of what it means to be a Gem. It's not human. It's not supposed to be human."

"What are you saying? That you don't want to fuse anymore?"

"No! That's not - that's not it! I like being Stevonnie, but we can't ever really be Stevonnie _and_ be us!"

"Stevonnie _is_ us, Steven. We can't just ignore them!" Connie said. "Garnet and Stevonnie are made of love, and that's why they can stay together, be together without losing themselves. You told me about Malachite, and how Lapis was trapped, how she - she was forced to - Steven, you don't feel like…"

Now it was his turn to raise his head, his hand following his gaze to wipe away the tear from the side of Connie's eyes. Steven's own drifted over his cheek, the droplet making a dark red oval on his shirt.

"I could never feel that way about you, Connie. But we can't be like Garnet. We're - you're human, and Ruby and Sapphire aren't. They can be together forever, they can be Garnet forever. You're going to age like a normal person, and I can try to keep up. But I know that if I had to let go without seeing your face, without…without Connie, then what's the point? I want us to be able to be human, as human as I can be, like your parents are. I don't want to live without you. I _can't_ live without you! And…we couldn't live together as Stevonnie, because I'd…miss Connie too much."

She stared at him, stunned with the honesty that poured out like the tears down each side of his face now. She had been able to control herself through his outpouring, but this was too much. Nobody could bear Steven crying, least of all her. Connie reached into the bag by the bed and pulled out a kerchief. She dabbed at his face as he sat with his eyes closed, still like a monument. He was like a cat when Connie touched him, paralyzed, in anticipation of whatever was to come.

Connie wiped away the last stains as he opened his eyes, shimmering in the remnant of the television's glow. She smiled first, but Steven followed, more of contagion than pantomime, an inexorable empathy between their fingers as they linked once more, the sodden kerchief between the muscles.

* * *

"What time is it now?"

"It's almost three, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I'm too comfortable to moooooooove."

Both Steven and Connie lay on Steven's mattress, with Connie's head by the pillows and Steven's by the foot. They stared at the patterns as they twisted on the ceiling with the wind. It was as if there was a hand pulling at the stars and planets themselves, like the Fates measuring the lifeline of each little sparkle that shone upon them.

Connie sighed and turned her head towards the window. "I've never actually stayed up to see a sunrise. Not voluntarily, anyway. I've seen them when we drove up the coast, but that was the road waking me up."

"It's gonna be beautiful, trust me."

Steven looked out over Beach City, the pinpoints of light mapping out each of the spaces between, the liminality between the sky and the sea, the boardwalk and the beaches. There was nothing that truly separated them, but there was some inherent break, the point where they met, two halves of a strange whole in the world.

" _Mnf._ "

Steven felt the bed shift, and he jerked involuntarily as he felt the hand on his stomach. He turned to see Connie staring down at him, her nightgown trailing from her collar to the comforter as they rested on top. It was just cooling down from the remnant of the night, and the stillness of the darkness around them was slowing time and temperature alike.

The sudden warmth of Connie snuggling next to him was not unwanted, but it was certainly not anticipated. She didn't even have to tell him that she was cold; the shiver ran from her head to her bare, curled toes.

Nobody else could see them. No eyes from Beach City, no parents checking in on them, none of the Gems worrying and wondering, nothing but their own nerves and knowledge. Connie's exhaustion was palpable, a sharpness to her form that accentuated everything that the night's light touched. It pained Steven for a reason that he could not place. It was the difference, perhaps, between the cool and the cold, comfort and concern.

He picker her up, almost, pulling her head towards the center of his chest. She opened her eyes as suddenly as the beats between a pulse, but she accepted the touch, moving her head to nestle in between Steven's softness. Connie's left arm moved over his body, curling up underneath his right.

Fabric and filling moved underneath as Steven twisted his legs, and Connie followed the slow dance until her calves gripped the boy, pajamas to nightgown and muscle to muscle, arch to arch.

Steven curled his left arm underneath and held with all the gentleness he could exercise with his strength, ancient power underneath his baby fat. With his other hand, he reached over and held the back of Connie's head, sliding his fingers through the waves of her black hair, up from the base of her neck and caressing the muscle underneath. The tips of his fingers pressed into them, his thumb exploring the tension where Connie's neck and shoulders met. She tensed momentarily, but Steven comforted with a grip, willing the healing in his body to come through, please, to provide that unconscious therapy to the core of Connie's being. Such strength, they had both seen such strength in her motion, and here in the stillness, Steven could take care of the wear that that strength took out of her.

Upon his chest, Connie moved her hand down, until her fingers traced under the hem of Steven's t-shirt and to the gemstone on his belly, the alien artifact, the constant warmth and birthright, that made Steven Steven. Her cheeks rose and fell with his breath, and Connie could feel consciousness leave the boy's mind as sleep caressed both of their eyelids. It was infectious. It was worth missing the sunrise. There would be plenty of sunrises, and so many that she could share with Steven at her side. But this moment could never pass again, and this thought flew past them like a shooting star.

A single beat, a double pace, a human heart - Steven's body was a marvel and a mystery, but there were still constants. She listened to each beat, a regular rhythm, a human life. So much surrounded the boy underneath her, and at what cost could the mysteries be revealed?

Why did it matter? Steven Universe was not merely anything, nor were they some stereotype, a love story, a novella to read in the corner of the library. This could not be written. It was not a problem to be solved, but a life to be lived. Connie's eyes closed to the beating of Steven's heart, surrounded by the clearness of a Beach City dawn. A life to be lived - together, but not alone. Not human, but something more, something entirely new.


End file.
